Lost Childhood
by snowman1996
Summary: Just something I threw together in about 7 hours. Don't judge, it's just something I made up as I went along, so errors may be found, but that's because I type fast. Sooo yeah...don't like, don't read, don't talk smack. Soooo yeah...kinda threw some characters together, and it's kinda dorky, but I think it's kinda fun...rated M because violence, language, and FNAF.


CIA BLACK DIVISION:

PLEASE ENTER YOUR EMPLOYEE USERNAME: ThaHacka66688

USER CONFIRMED

PLEASE ENTER YOUR PASSCODE, ENCRYPTION KEY, AND OFFICIAL IDENTIFYING STATEMENT

PASSCODE:

ENCRYPTION KEY:

OIS:

PROCESSING. . . .

CREDENTIALS CONFIRMED

PLEASE SELECT ONE OF THE FOLLOWING OPTIONS:

STORY

EMAIL

BIOS

ANNOUNCEMENTS

NEWS

FORMS

EXIT

BIOS SELECTED

PROCESSING SELECTION. . . . . . .

BIOS LOADING

BIOS LOADED

BIOS:

Name: Moses "Lucky Moe" McWinchet

Age: Physically: 23 Years; Chronologically: 170 Years

Height: 6' 3"

Weight: 120 lbs.

Gender: Male

Skin Color: White

Hair Color: Brown

Eye Color: Blue

Notable Physical Features: Robotic right arm, razor-sharp teeth, scars and cuts on his face.

Skills: Extensive Knowledge of Martial Arts, Weapons expert, Explosives expert, Marksman/Sniper, Mechanic, Programmer, Electronics Master, Rapper, and interrogation.

Biography: At the age of 9 months, young Moses was found on the doorstep of a then-popular pizza parlor named Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria. The current owner, Arnold "The Faz" Fazbear, heard an infant crying and rushed outside to see what it was. He noticed the infant crying and he found a note, written in rushed print, which read:

Mr. Fazbear-

This is my son, Moses McWinchet. Please, keep him in the pizzeria with the animatronics. I fear that I will not survive this night. With this child I give you a warning: Do NOT underestimate the Golden One. He will do whatever it takes to see my child dead. The CIA Black division will be in contact with you. His robotic arm will grow with him. Raise him as your own, but keep him safe with the animatronics at the restaurant. I wish you the best of luck, Mr. Fazbear.

-Lisa McWinchet

P.S. He is 9 months, but he has been with my family for over a century. At the age of 23, he will stop aging. I URGE you to try your best to keep this story under wraps until then.

Mr. Fazbear then took young Moses into his arms, and called the animatronics over. After telling them what they had to do, they took the child in, and raised him as one of their own. Everything was fine…until "Lucky Moe" had his 10th birthday party, on October 31st, 1987, at the restaurant. The moment he blew out the candles on the Chocolate cake Chica had made for him, a large, hulking, Yellow-ish gold form of Freddy appeared. Moses had noticed a young child backing into a corner as Golden Freddy rounded on this seemingly innocent child with several threats and a few scary faces to match. He then saw the boy's father behind him yelling at him. He then bit the man's frontal lobe off, and tampered with the evidence to frame Foxy. Golden Freddy then gave one last threat to Moses before vanishing as the police arrived. Due to the evidence, despite the customers blubbering about Golden Freddy, Foxy was forced into early retirement. With the pirate he looked to as a father figure exiled for something he didn't do, Young Moses went over to the young boy whose father had been attacked and asked him what his name was. With that, he had met 7-Year-old Michael "Mikey" Schmidt. After comforting him with Chica, he looked at Mr. Fazbear, told him he was sorry, and with nothing but the clothes on his back, a piece of Chica's cake, and a polaroid photo of his 5th birthday, he took off into the cold, rainy night, sobbing. He ended up in Providence, Rhode Island. He refused help, and he took up gambling, pool, weapons, martial arts, electronics, and mechanics. It was during a Texas Hold' Em poker game at a bar shortly after his 23rd birthday that he would gain the nickname "Lucky Moe" for eternity. He turned over two aces, which matched with three kings on the board. His opponent, a surly, hulking petty crook named Terrence "Shifty-Eye Terry" Linguani, had a pair of twos with the three kings, making Moses the winner. Terrence then got very angry and grabbed a pool stick from the rack and told Moses to give him his money. Moses smirked and offered him a free castration and a free lobotomy as a consolation prize. When Terrence lunged at him, he simply held out his robotic fist, and Terrence was placed into a coma right then and there. A few moments later, he was at the bar with a beer, and ran into Mike Schmidt, of all people. After that, he walked back to his Slime Green 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T 426 Hemi and drove back to his apartment. "Lucky Moe" enjoys poker, pool, fast food, working out, alcohol, Diet Coke, Grand Theft Auto Online, driving his Challenger, and helping others.

Name: Freddy Fazbear

Age: 48

Height: 6' 9"

Weight: 900 lbs.

Gender: Male

Color: Brown

Eye Color: Blue

Skills: Singing, Protecting Children, Knocking people out, stuffing people in suits only when given explicit permission to do so.

Biography: What's there to really be said about a sentient, singing robot bear? Well, once he gets know someone, and he takes a liking to them, he'll keep you happy. After hours, he enjoys singing some rather not-so-family-friendly songs, reading novels, enjoying a good cup of coffee, and remembering the glory years. He keeps trying to help Mr. Fazbear find their lost child, Moses, who they don't know is living in the projects right down the street from the new location they'll be moving to. He also doesn't know about the boy's record, his street cred, his rep with the police, and his nickname "Lucky Moe". Boy is he in for a surprise when a street thug he runs into has those same blue eyes that once looked up to him and his friends, his family.

Name: Foxy the Pirate

Age: Unknown

Height: 7'?"

Weight: Unknown

Gender: Male

Color: Red

Eye Color: Yellow

Skills: Rapping, Drums, Entertaining Kids, Hand-to-Hand combat, Swordplay, Searching.

Biography: Foxy was always well received by every patron of their pizza parlor, even with his steel hook. His two favorite "Mateys" were Moses, and Mike Schmidt. However, this would not last. Golden Freddy framed the helpless pirate for the bite of '87, where Mike's dad lost his frontal lobe. Everyone who was there knew Foxy had been set up, but the feds wanted no part of that. Anyone who wasn't there also thought that Foxy was guilty. However, when Mike returned just after turning 23 as the night watchman, Foxy saw him, and noticed his lost friend was back. When the restaurant closes, he and his friends can finally not be forcibly cheery and can just let it out. Foxy enjoys running, hanging out with Mike on the old Pirate's cove stage, rapping old 2Pac, Biggie, Eminem, and Dr. Dre tracks, Coca-Cola, and being there for Freddy, as Freddy was always there for him, after that terrible night.

Name: Bonnie

Age: 27

Height: 7' 1"

Weight: 700 lbs.

Gender: Male

Color: Purple

Eye Color: Red

Skills: Electric Guitar, Drawing, Belting assholes who deserve it, boxing.

Biography: Bonnie is one tough rabbit. Don't let the forced happiness, purple fur, big red bow tie, and fluffy, goofy appearance fool you. Bonnie defends those he cares about. But, when someone mistakes him for a girl (people have been doing it since 1962, when Louis "Big Faz" Fazbear, Arnold Fazbear's father, opened the place), even during business hours, he lets them know in a way they won't soon forget. During business hours, he uses the back-alley mobster tactic to make sure they know he's no girl. After hours, he and his friends, plus Mike, noticed a burglar near the registers, and they figured to pull a fast one. Foxy whizzed right by him, catching his attention, and Chica threw a rotten pizza at him. He then noticed that the stage was empty, and that there was a skinny young man walking toward him with a flashlight and a security uniform. When the crook pulled a gun, Freddy promptly grabbed it, removed the magazine, and crushed into a steel ball like paper. The guard then saw Bonnie coming from behind, and he made a dash for the exit, and he found Mike blocking it, checking tomorrow's weather on his phone. When he turned around, Bonnie was right there. When called him a girl, Bonnie belted him upside the head with one large metal paw and the next thing the bastard knew, he was waking up in a holding cell with the charge of Burglary. Make no mistake that Bonnie can be deadly, but he's got a very caring, loving, and kind side to him. He'll give you a guitar solo from a rock or metal legend, give you a few pointers for learning, show you a few cars and motorcycles he dreams of having, and makes it known that if someone tries to do something to you on his watch, he'll be grabbing the perp and sticking a pizza cutter right where the sun don't shine. After hours, Bonnie enjoys playing guitar solos from classic rock and metal hits, doing shots of Jägermeister, and reading car and motorcycle magazines.

Name: Chica

Age: 22

Height: 6' 8"

Weight: 400 lbs.

Gender: Female

Color: Bright Yellow

Eye Color: Purple

Skills: Cooking, Baking, Flying, Pranks, Singing, and Making those she trusts feel safe and secure.

Biography: She's one of the nicest people you could ever meet. She'll dry your tears, comfort you, keep kidnappers and bullies away, make you a pizza, bake you a cake, and keep you happy. But, she's also got another side, just like everyone else in this screwed up family that calls a nearly-bankrupt pizza parlor home. If you make any fat jokes, mistake her for a duck, or make fun of her bib (she wears a t-shirt with the SVEDKA vodka logo on it after hours because she HATES that damn bib), she will rip your guts open with a kitchen knife and cram your stupid ass into a pizza oven. She's capable of love, and capable of brutality. After hours, she enjoys having a glass of wine (or 2 full bottles after a REALLY rough day of kids throwing pizza and soda at them, beating each other up, harassing Foxy over the bite of '87, and carving their names into the arcade machines) with a plate of pasta with red sauce, listening to pop music, and watching YouTube videos of people doing really stupid things to get internet fame, so she has something laugh at.

Name: Michael "Mike" Schmidt

Age: 23

Height: 5' 9"

Weight: 130 lbs.

Gender: Male

Skin Color: White

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Eye Color: Blue-Green

Skills: Unknown

Biography: Ah, Yes. Mike. He's the type who gets nervous easily, and has a hard time trusting people after the feds who showed up and forced Foxy into exile (who he's always had a feeling they were working for Golden Freddy) when the evidence clearly proved him innocent. His dad hung himself a few months after the attack for two reasons, he didn't have a frontal lobe, and he knew Foxy was innocent, but he couldn't live with the poor guy exiled, and Mike vowed to get Golden Freddy or die trying. One big thing he remembered about that cold, rainy Halloween night, was a young boy with a robotic arm, a heart of gold, and a soul of insanity, who helped him, and comforted him. He never found out who he was, because he said to the owner, Mr. Fazbear, I'm sorry, and, after grabbing a photo and a piece of cake, he ran out with nothing but the piece of cake, the photo, and the clothes on his back. Shortly after turning 23 and graduating from URI (something drew him to Rhode Island, but he didn't know what), he came back to Portland, and got a job with Mr. Fazbear, who he remembered and he said he needed to see this place, and his old friends, for closure, as the night guard. When Foxy saw him, he ran right to him and gave him a huge hug. When Freddy asked Mike about Moses, after explaining Moses was the kid from 1987, Mike said that, while at URI, he and a few drinking buddies had gone to an old bar in the financial district of Providence called The Continental Bar, connected to a sleazy strip club called the Town Car Lounge, and a rave club called The Navigator Dance Club, and he had noticed a man standing up at a poker table, grabbing a pool cue, and trying to rob the winner. When he tried to attack, the other guy, wearing a beat up black leather jacket, stuck his right fist out, and the guy went head first, going into a coma. The guy who had just knocked a guy 3x his size into a coma then walked over to the bar and sat right next to him. Mike had noticed that "Natural Born Killer" had been embroidered on the back of his jacket in blood red. When the young man with his mop of brown hair turned to look him in the eye after Mike had said hi, Mike then realized who he was looking at, and he knew that the other guy knew the same thing. "Lucky Moe", as he had heard him be called by a guy wearing a denim jacket and a black muscle shirt, then paid his tab and left to his car. He said that this guy looked like he had been through hell and had given Satan an ass kicking, but those blue eyes and that right arm were unmistakable. A few weeks later, Mr. Fazbear had announced they would be moving to a former Chuck E Cheese location in Providence, RI. Mike mentioned his chance encounter to Mr. Fazbear, who looked at him with joy in his face.

Name: Golden Freddy

AgEfwefqfewvter rggrtre gqe ger gqer grqe ge ger ere ger gqe

FILE DIR/BLKOPS/BIOS/GOLDENFREDDY IS CORRUPTED

EXITING BIOS

RETURNING TO MENU

PLEASE SELECT ONE OF THE FOLLOWING OPTIONS:

STORY

EMAIL

BIOS

ANNOUNCEMENTS

NEWS

FORMS

EXIT

STORY SELECTED

PROCESSING SELECTION. . . . . . .

STORY DOWNLOADING

910MB

0%

1%

4%

7%

19%

24%

28%

35%

41%

55%

63%

72%

86%

92%

99%

100%

STORY DOWNLOADED

STORY LOADING

STORY LOADED

He had just walked in after having to knock ol' Shifty-Eye Terry into a coma for the second time in 2 years. Hopefully the bastard would just give up and give out. He'd be in hell, but he deserves it, the dumbshit. He could still remember the first time, a year-and-a-half ago. _I had just collected the chips, and won the game fairly. He had cheated. I saw the twos hiding in his sneakers. "Jesus, Terry, stop cheating. I saw you grab the twos from your sneakers. I still won. Now stop fucking around and get out of here." He simply stood up from the green felt table, grabbed a pool stick from a nearby rack, and yelled, "GIVE ME MY MONEY YOU LITTLE FUCKER! I MAY NOT HAVE WON, BUT THAT'S STILL MY MONEY! IF YOU DON'T GIMMIE IT, I'LL KNOCK YOUR HEAD INTO 1987 WITH THIS STICK!" It was that moment, when he yelled that year…..that…painful year, that I got into his face, showing off a mouthful rather sharp, pointed teeth that would tear right through your neck, and said, "Terrence, get out of this bar, never come back, never threaten me again" and I grabbed the pool stick from his hand, "and" *snap* "never" *snap* "say" *snap* "1987" *snap* "again." With a death glare, I tossed the four broken stick pieces onto the poker table. Then, he said, "Give. Me. My. Money." And I turned around, glaring daggers at him with bright blue eyes, and stated in a deadly quiet voice, "I think we're done here, Terrence. Grab your filthy friends and leave." I turned around to go get a drink at the bar when he screamed and lunged. I stuck out my robotic right arm, curled my hand into a fist, and let him dive into it. Knocked him into a coma. Cops let me off because it was self-defense. With that, I walked over to the bar, pulled out my beat up leather wallet, now full of cash, and said to the rather surly bartender Adam, "Boston Lager, please." He looked at me, and, with a small smile, said, "T'anks fer helpin' with t'at sorry bastahd and his goons. 'Ppreciate it." I replied with, "No Problem, Adam. He'll be back. I'm sure of it. I'll be there when he returns. Stupid fuck." I noticed some college-type kid, couldn't be older than 22, sitting next to me. He said, "Hi." I looked at him and was about to say I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries when I saw those bright blue-green eyes and he looked right back into my bright blue eyes. I could tell we both had the same exact thought. "No fucking way in HELL is HE sitting right next to me." He quietly noticed "Natural Born Killer" embroidered in red on the back of my jacket and he said in a mumble, "Nice Jacket." I just looked at him like I'd seen a ghost. Adam came and asked, "Hey Moe, this little shit botherin' ya?" I said very quickly, "Here's my tab, tip, and a few extra bucks to get by. I gotta go." I handed him a wad of fifties and practically ran out the door, when one of my buddies, "Stinky" Joe Kyles, asked, "Hey Lucky Moe, why the rush? You beat the living shit outta some guy 3 times your size, but you're scared of a scrawny college kid with a light beer?" I simply told him, "I'm not scared of him. If I told you what was going on, you'd never believe me." He simply replied, "All right, no need to get angry." He NEVER wanted to be on the receiving end of my anger, thus he just dropped it. I jumped into my Slime Green 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T, with its 426 Hemi, automatic transmission, and aftermarket touch screen navigation stereo, and I went right home. I locked the door, and did something I haven't done in 27 years. I pulled out that old Nike shoe box, and pulled out the only two items inside, the "1" candle from my 10_ _th_ _birthday cake on October 31_ _st_ _, 1987, and that old, faded Polaroid from my 5_ _th_ _birthday. I could see Foxy, looking like a proud father, his good paw on my right shoulder, Chica smiling, Bonnie holding up his guitar, Mr. Fazbear with a huge, silly grin on his face, wearing an old pirate hat Foxy put on him, and then, Freddy himself, his paw on my left shoulder, smiling proudly. I stood up, walked to the mirror in my bathroom, and looked at my untamed mop of brown hair, my clean-shaven, cut-up, scarred face, my very sharp teeth, and then held the photo up beside my reflection and looked at the gapped-sharp-toothed boy with a huge grin on his face, a pair of goofy sunglasses, and plenty of patrons saying happy birthday. I felt a single tear slide down my cheek. I looked at the candle, the wax intact, but the burnt wick missing. I turned the photo around and saw Bonnie's distinct print scrawled across the back in black ink from a pen, reading: "Remember, you may one day be the savior of the world. Don't give up. Just keep going. You don't have to fake happiness, just be yourself." With that, I placed both items back in the box, and walked out of the bathroom, placing the box back in my closet as I pulled off my clothes, put on a pair of boxers and a muscle shirt, and went to sleep, no dreams, no nightmares, just sleep._

I could still remember the young boy I comforted on that Halloween night, and the young man I ran into at the Continental Bar. I know that Excursion was following me. Whatever. A beer and the news will do. I walked to my old, beat up fridge, pulled out an ice cold Boston Lager, opened it, and turned on channel 1012 on my Cox HD box, connected to a second hand Blu-Ray player, and my old HDTV. I thought about Mike briefly as the opening titles came on, having heard that his dad hung himself a few months after that one damned night. A quick commercial for Coca-Cola came on, followed by a short advertisement for "Dead in the Dark Part II: Blood Feud", one of those B-Roll films showing at the Rustic Tri-Vue Drive-In during their annual B-Roll horror-action fest. I miss those days. The news came back on and, after a story on an ISIS bombing in Egypt, with a quick update on that damned Ebola outbreak, I saw something pop up, live, right down the street, which made me VERY nervous. Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria had moved from Portland, Oregon, to a shuttered Chuck E Cheese right here in my backyard. Jesus, I thought that Providence would be far enough away. It was then that I saw Mike Schmidt, who hasn't changed since that night in the bar, being asked about a myth surrounding someone named Moses, and an entity named Golden Freddy. He said that his boss, and friend, owner Arnold Fazbear, didn't want bad publicity, but he DID state that Foxy WAS innocent. I just stared at the TV, not sure what to do. I ran back to my closet, grabbed the box, looked at the candle briefly, and turned the photo over from 1978, reading the note again. I didn't want to, but I knew I had to go back. I quickly threw my beat up Jordans back on, grabbed my notorious "Natural Born Killer" jacket, grabbed the candle and the photo, and grabbed my Smith and Wesson Model 500 4" Revolver. I checked to see it was loaded, grabbed a few extra rounds, shut the TV off, grabbed my keys, locked my apartment, and drove off in my Challenger, hoping my family would forgive me, for then, and now.

There was a huge crowd when I pulled up. I jumped out, locked the doors, and ran over. The news crews were just interviewing Mr. Fazbear as the bots were walking inside to get ready for tomorrow when I ran right in front of the camera, shoving it away. Mr. Fazbear looked at me like, "Who the hell are you? WHY did you shove that cameraman?" I simply said, "How could you not remember the odd child you took in?" He looked at my appearance and tried to deny it, hoping it wasn't true, "No. No. It can't be you." I pulled out the candle, and the photo. He just looked at them both then looked at me. He said, "Go inside. The others would probably like to see you." I was just about to walk in, when that Excursion from earlier pulled up, a group of guys in suits came flying out. One came up to me and said, "Why are you harassing this man?" I said, "Ha, don't make me laugh. This man took me in. I ran off aft-…wait a minute…YOU! YOU FORCED FOXY INTO EXLIE YOU BASTARD! I HOPE YOU AND YOUR FUCKING ASSWAD FRIENDS GO TO HELL WITH THAT BIG YELLOW FAGGOT! I'M GOING TO CRUCIFY YOUR ASS ON A PHONE POLE AND LEAVE YOU THERE!" He then said to Mr. Fazbear, "Clearly, this young man is delusional, probably been taking drugs. We'll take him." But, Mr. Fazbear recognized this man from that Halloween night as well and said, "Let go of him or you and your fat yellow buddy will be in more trouble than you already are. Now beat it, fuckbag, or you'll be waking up in a holding cell." The man just looked at him, enraged, but then forced a smile and said, "If you say so, Mr. Fazbear." With that, he and his goons got back into the Excursion and drove off. I looked over at Mr. Fazbear, quickly apologized to the cameraman, and asked, "I know you and the others shouldn't, and probably won't, forgive me, but could you at least consider it….please?" I had tears forming already, making the big bad tough guy look more like…everyone else. He looked at me and, with tears in his eyes, flung onto me in a hug, which I gladly returned, as he sobbed, "OH MY GOD I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE SAFE YOU'RE FORGIVEN PLEASE DON'T LEAVE EVER AGAIN LIKE THAT WE LOVE YOU PLEASE DON'T GO." After fighting back a few tears, I let go of Mr. Fazbear, and said, "That means the world to me. I've been running from that night for 27 years, and now I know, I should be back home for dinner."

With that, the police came, ran the crowds and the press off, and they wiped my record. They also took statements from Mr. Fazbear, Mike, and I about those guys in the Excursion impersonating Federal Agents. After the police left, we walked inside. Mr. Fazbear had told me that, due to my running off, he decided that no matter the cost, the animatronics be allowed freedom 24/7, never locking them up onstage. I walked inside, somewhat nervously, and the first thing within the building to greet me was a big yellow blob of feathers and metal charging at me for a 120-mile-an-hour hug. Due to my rather mysterious "attributes", I wasn't even hurt when she gave me a hug harder than a car crusher. She let go after a few minutes and cried out, "OH MY GOD MOSES WE'VE BEEN WORRIED FOR 27 GODDAMN YEARS! YOU RAN OFF AND WE THOUGHT EITHER THAT FAT GOLD MENACE GOT YOU OR YOU HAD CHANGED YOUR NAME AND VANISHED!" I simply said, "I did change my name….slightly. I typically go by "Moe" now. My buddies at the bar call me "Lucky Moe" as, by good fortune, I keep winning poker and pool tournaments." Chica then went off about drinking and gambling being illegal for a 10 year old when I finally got her to listen for a second, "Take a good look at me. I've changed on the outside, by my crazy-ass soul and my golden heart remain the same as they were that night all those years ago." She stepped back, took one look and her mechanical jaw DROPPED at the sight of me. A 6' 3" 23-Year-old with scars and cuts on my face, a beat up t-shirt with a stylized middle finger on it, a beat up black leather jacket with "Natural Born Killer" on the back in RED, jeans that haven't seen detergent in god knows how long, a mop of brown hair, a clean shave, and Jordans that look like they've been through hell. But, she quickly closed her mouth, walked up to me, and parted my mop of hair out of my eyes and she was in disbelief. Same kid, older, crazier, a bit different from the cheerful kid prior to 6:31:12 PM on Friday, October 31st, 1987, but she could see in those eyes, the same piercing blue eyes that had looked up to all of them, had helped kids around the restaurant, and kept the employees in line, that his heart of gold and soul of insanity, hadn't changed one damn bit. She then said to me, "Thank you…for coming back. We've needed to know that you were still out there, helping others." I stated that, while my poker and pool money kept me sustained, I was helping out at homeless shelters, nursing homes, where the vets thought I was hysterical and would EASILY have been a valuable asset in one of the many wars the USA has been in, making kids with cancer and other grave diseases laugh at dirty jokes and wise cracks on anything and everything that they may only hear this one time, and working with mentally ill children at the nearby Bradley Hospital. She just smiled and said, "You always were like that, even at 9 months you were helping Mr. Fazbear pick specials for me to cook. Smart kid, my 5 cheese pizza was a hit for decades. Still is, because people who come in here, know now that Foxy was telling the truth, and know that you helped that pizza be the standard for chains across the globe, and the only reason he's back there is because, well, you'd need to see him. He can still talk normally, but….he's had it rough. I think he'd want to see you. No, he NEEDS to see you. Now go on, go see Foxy." With a few gentle pushes of her wings, like old times, I walked over to Pirates cove….now with the curtains drawn tightly and an Out-of-order sign on the front. I heard a groan and a VERY familiar voice say, "Ye best not be takin' me ol' ass to the scrap, ye hear? This tired ol' sea dog still has some fight in 'im. I not be leavin' 'til I see me son again, ye hear? When I be seein' Moses in here, I be goin' with no protest, but not befer, ye hear?" I simply stood there and waited. The mysterious being behind the curtain than began to get angry and yelled out, "WHY CAN'T YE BASTARDS BE LEAVIN' A TIRED OL' CAP'N LIKE ME ALONE? I AIN'T SEEN ME SON IN OVER TWENTY YEARS! I BE READY TO STICK ME OL' RUSTY HOOK RIGHT WHERE YE SUN DON'T FUCKIN' SHINE, YE ASSHOLES!" I then said, quietly, "It's me." I heard nothing. I then yanked the curtains away seeing Foxy trying to scare me off with his hook, and boy was Chica right. Why the hell did I run off? He then began yelling, "YE NEVER BE TAKIN' ME FROM ME HOME 'TIL I SEE ME BOY AGAIN, YE HEAR? YE BEST BACK OFF 'FORE I 'AVE TO CLEAN YER GUTS OFF THE WALLS, YE HEAR?" I then jumped forward, grabbed both of his wrists, and said, "Look at me. It's me. I'm back." Foxy then looked at me and said, "Boyo ye hair be in front of ye eyes. How do ye see a thing?" I stated, "Look, I'm going to let go of your right wrist, use the hook to brush my hair out of my eyes. Okay?" Foxy growled slightly then said, "Ye best not be lyin' to a pirate. Ye'd be walkin' the plank fer that." I said, "Fair enough." And I released his right wrist. He then gently brushed my hair out of my eyes and his jaw dropped even further than Chica's had done. He stammered, "B-b-bless me ol' battered m-m-m-me-metal 'eart. Moses, why did ye leave us?" I said, "I….don't know. I think I panicked and just took off." Foxy then said, "Aye, I'd be doin' the same in yer place." I helped him up, and helped him across the stage, to the open curtain, where Bonnie and Freddy were talking with Mike and Mr. Fazbear, making sure it was me and not some nutjob. When we walked out, I REALLY felt bad because I now saw the extent of Foxy's damage. His jaw was broken and kept falling down, the majority of his costume was damaged, and his eyes were a little bit off. I helped the ol' pirate down from the stage and brought him over to everyone else. Bonnie simply stood there when he saw me, seeing my eyes for the first time in 27 years, and was speechless. Freddy looked ready cry when he finally saw me AND Foxy, reunited after 27 Years, one on the run, the other in exile. Freddy finally let go and burst into tears of oil, sobbing, "WHY DID YOU LEAVE US MOSES WHY WHY WHY? WE WERE WORRIED SICK FOR 27 YEARS! DON'T LEAVE US LIKE THAT AGAIN! PLEASE! STAY!" I gave Freddy a few pats on the shoulder, and said, "Relax. I'm not going anywhere farther than 10 miles from here, and I'll be back every damn time. You can count on it." Freddy said, "Promise me." I thought for a moment and said, "Pinky promise, like old times?" He had the biggest smile on his face. I pinkie promised him I wouldn't leave them like that again. Whether I was a yard or 1,000 miles away. I'd be back. I always would. Bonnie then finally found his voice again, and managed to stammer, "Wh-wh-why did you leave? A-a-a-a-as tough as I am…I d-d-didn't think I'd h-have the fight f-f-for anything a-any-anymore when y-you took o-off." I didn't even have a chance to react when Bonnie the big tough guy under the goofy purple cover ran to me and just gave me the biggest hug he could. I gladly returned it, making sure he knew I wouldn't be leaving like that ever again. But, out of nowhere, a demonic laugh came from the buildings stereo. Foxy, in his shape, was VERY scared. I simply stood there, pulling out my Model 500, and glancing around when the power went out. It came back on a few seconds later, and Golden Freddy was in the center of the room, around him, it looked like the old building. He laughed and then came right over to me and said, "Heh, I knew your ass would be back someday. Best the family had better fill you in on the OTHER part of that note from your discovery, eh?" I simply looked at him, no trace of fear. I said in a quiet voice that would make death himself piss and run, "You have a lot of nerve showing up. I know a bullet won't do much, but eh, token of notice that I know you're back. But, heed this, I will NOT run this time. I will be there, fighting to piss on your corpse, then burn it, or die trying. You won't be hurting anyone anymore." In the silence, I made the power go out, pulled the hammer back, and all you heard was a loud bang and a demonic yelp of pain. He then left, taking the bullet with him. I brought the power back up, and simply said, "He's not getting away this time."

After that, I went back to my apartment, and handed in a note to my landlord that simply said, "I'm leaving. Key is on the counter." The opening was moved a few days later so I could finally move back in. After finishing off, the last thing I grabbed before leaving the apartment key on the counter. The shoebox. Chica, moving the last box of clothes to the U-Haul truck outside asked, "What's that?" I said, "I'll show you when we get home." It felt good to say that. I had put my jacket away hanging on to it for the next time the Yellow Freddy Poser showed his stupid ass. After he had left with a new hole and a free bullet, I was finally told of Mr. Fazbear, back then 28 Years old, and he had inherited the business and the crew of robots when his father was gunned down by Golden Freddy, was finishing some paperwork when he heard an infant crying. He looked out of his office door, and heard it coming from outside. He opened the door, and saw, wrapped in old, beaten up blankets, with a robotic right arm, and VERY sharp teeth, was an infant. He kept the note. There was no other part. That yellow fucker lied. I walked outside and just took a breather. I walked back inside and asked where Mike was. Mr. Fazbear said he lived a few blocks away. So, I got into my Challenger and drove to his studio apartment in the Superman Building, or 111 Westminster Street, in the financial district. I went up, and knocked on his door a few times. The door opened a few minutes later, and I simply stood there, looking at Mike, remembering that night, and his father hanging himself not too long after. He looked nervous. I said, "I'm not going to hurt you Mike, you know that." He stammered, "It's not that." I said, "Then what's the problem?" He said, "I never forgot that act of kindness that night. You and Chica took the time to comfort me, make sure I was okay. Even in your panic run, you still checked others first to make sure they were okay. I never forgot and I never will. Thank you for everything."

Anyway, back to the present. Mr. Fazbear finally got Foxy fixed up, and reopened Pirate's Cove to immediate success, with Foxy being thanked for holding out, for not attacking those he felt were responsible, for just keeping himself together. I had just finished moving in when, the day of the grand re-opening, I called Chica over to backstage. I had the shoebox. I said, "You ready to see what's in here?" with a sly grin. She chuckled and shook her head, saying, "If it's porno I'm good." I said, "It's not porno. It's something you'd THINK I'd gotten rid of after running. I never did. I was still coming back. I just wasn't sure when. So I kept both items." I opened the box and pulled out what, to any other person, would look like an old birthday candle and an old photo. She looked at them, and noticed the chocolate cake stains still on the candle. I handed her the photo then motioned for her to look at the back. She just smiled when she saw Bonnie's faded 35-year-old note. We then just gave each other a hug and walked back out, with me bringing the box back into my room. When I came out, I saw one Mike Schmidt, WITH his mother, walking inside. Chica had just gotten back onstage to do a cover of Sharp-Dressed Man by ZZ Top. I saw Foxy having fun with the kids, his hook replaced with a new right paw. He looked up noticed me, and said to the kids, "Arrrrrrr! That be me boy over there. AHOY THERE MOE! WHY DON'T YE COME OVER AND SAY HI TO THE KIDS!" With a smile, I said, "Sure, why not? I actually needed to tell you something anyway, ya ol' sea dog." Foxy gave a huge toothy grin as I walked over, new haircut, a fresh shave, and a t-shirt with an image of Bonnie wearing black greaser-type jacket while playing a V-style electric guitar and a bit of text: "Bonnie: The rock n roll tough guy with a huge heart. Freddy Fazbear's pizza." I had on a clean pair of jeans and a new pair of sneakers. I sat down giving the kids a large toothy grin. Foxy then said, "Kids this be me son, Moses. He prefers Moe, but if he like ye, he'll let ye call him "Lucky Moe". Say Hi to Moe, the legend come back home!" They all piped up with, "Hi Moe!" It really felt good to finally not be behind the scenes, now being out there, with no set duties. It felt even better to see these kids seeming to take a liking to the two of us. One small girl, couldn't have been older than 7, piped up, "Excuse me, Captain Foxy, can I ask Moe a question?" He laughed and said, "That be a question ye should ask him. Go ahead, he won't bite." She said, "Moe, can I ask you a question?" I said, "Sure, shoot." The question she asked was adorable. I could tell Foxy was fighting back tears. "Why are your teeth like Captain Foxy's? Are you two really related?" I laughed and said, "Before I answer that, what's your name?" "Wendy." I said, "That's a really nice name, now to answer your question. I've had these teeth since day one. Left by my mother on the piers of the Carolinas. No one noticed me there for a few days. But this ol' pirate here just happened to stop at that pier to quickly make off with a few bottles of rum and some food. But as they were quickly and quietly moving supplies to the ship, one of his crewmates, one Mr. Mike Schmidt, First Mate, saw me, and called the captain over. The rest, they say, is history. Speaking of the devil, he's here in the flesh. HEY MIKE! C'MERE!" Mike walked over with a huge grin, his mother following. He asked, "Hey Moe, have you met my mom yet?" I said, "Sorry, but that night was crazy. Didn't get the chance. Mrs. Schmidt? Moses McWinchet, Moe preferably, but Lucky Moe of ya like." She then gave me a huge hug saying, "Thanks for helping my son that night. It means the world to me, to both of us." I whispered in her ear, "I heard what happened to Mike's father. He mentioned he enjoyed watching football at that party, so he's probably watching football with the man upstairs." She smiled and said, "Thank you." I turned back to the kids, "As I was saying, Mike here, in our day, was the Captain's first mate." They all looked at him in amazement, "Foxy and I were in a few tight spots, but Lucky Moe saved us on a few occasions. Blackbeard never did find that treasure, did he?" Foxy smiled and said, "Aye, the man was as dull as they come. Explains why he didn't see me treasure in FRONT OF HIS FACE!" Foxy began laughing hysterically. Even Foxy knew these were works of fiction we came up with, but the kids loved them and thought they were real. So we keep it that way.

After the kids left, Foxy, Mike, Mrs. Schmidt, and I sat on the stage of Pirate's Cove, remembering fond memories before the event that would shatter everything and wouldn't be repaired for 27 years. Mr. Fazbear found us and came up to us. "I see everyone here is getting along. Kids aren't doing what they did in Portland, either. Hey, Moe? Could I have a quick word with you in my office?" I quickly said, "I didn't do it, I swear! It was Danny Bonaduce and Leif Garrett!" He could tell I had noticed that happy glint in his eyes that this was just to catch up and see how everything was going. With a grin, he asked, "Then, why was it YOU on the cameras?" By now, Foxy, Mike, and Mrs. Schmidt had caught on to the joking around. I said, in fake guilt, "You got me officer. I should fess up for a lighter sentence." With that, we both laughed. Then, we walked over the Mr. Fazbear's office and walked in. He sat behind the desk, and I sat on one of the chairs facing him. I said, "So, Fazzy, what's cookin' besides meth?" He laughed at that one. I could tell he loved that joke. After drying his eyes, he said, "Moe, I just wanted to say, that, between you, Freddy, Chica, Foxy, and Bonnie, the place couldn't be better. But I had a thought. Mike seems to like being here, and with the profits, I've got a state-of-the-art security system, so why not have him here as part of the show, and to add just one more element to the entertainment. Thoughts?" I looked at him, then slowly smiled and said, "I'll go get him." Mr. Fazbear laughed, "I thought you'd like it."

After Mike heard the details, I saw a smile slowly creep onto his face. I knew he'd love it. Mike said, with a huge grin, "I'll take it." After a quick contract was signed, Mike and I walked over to Pirate's Cove, where Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica had joined Foxy, and Mrs. Schmidt was at a nearby table, smiling. Mike quickly went over and gave her the news. Her face lit up like the sun when he told her. She gave him the biggest kiss, and then told him she had to get going. She waved bye to everyone and I heard her drive off. "Your mother is a bigger survivor than I could ever be. She's got my respect." I told him. He said, "Thanks. Now let's go join our cast mates, shall we?"

Foxy was in the middle of another crack at stupid Pirates, this time he made a crack on Captain Kidd. We walked over and, after he made the punchline of Captain Kidd having the brainpower of a rock, the kids cracked up. He looked over at us and said, "Ahoy, me lads. Ye need somethin'?" Mike smirked and said, "You guys just got another guy for that show." Foxy then looked around and said, "Really? Who?" Mike then tapped him on the shoulder, getting his attention, "What?" What Mike said next would go down in Freddy Fazbear's history as the best joke ever. "You're lookin' at him." Foxy then gained a giant, toothy grin and said, "HOW DID I NOT SEE THAT?! I NEED ME HEAD CHECKED!" and with that we all just cracked up.

Freddy, Bonnie, and Chica had just finished a performance of Cruise by Florida-Georgia Line when they heard the gales of laughter from Pirate's Cove. Freddy quickly motioned for Bonnie and Chica to follow him. When they got there, the laughing had somewhat died down, but not completely. Freddy asked, "Hey Moe, what'd you say that made these kids lose it like that?" He assumed my mouth was involved. I looked at him, smiled and said, "Mike just got hired as a new cast member for the shows. Foxy took a second and looked around the restaurant. When Mike said, "You're lookin' at him." Foxy then yelled "HOW DID I NOT SEE THAT!? I NEED ME HEAD CHECKED!" Freddy then walked over to Mike, giving me a quick wink as he passed, which I returned. Freddy then said, "Congrats, Mike. Welcome to the show." Mike then made a reference to that game Scott Cawthorn made and asked, "Will I be stuffed into a suit?" With a smirk, Freddy jokingly grabbed him and said, "I've got one just for you." We all lost it again. We had it good. At the end of the day, as Mike was heading home, Mr. Fazbear stepped out and said, "That was a GREAT opening day. Let's have another big one ready tomorrow. 'Night guys and girl." We all said goodnight as Mr. Fazbear left. Now, I figured would be a good time mention a little something that had been on my mind all day.

"Hey, guys? We had a great first day but, remember, Moldy Goldy's still around. We gotta be ready."

Meanwhile, in the undiscovered basement of the old building in Portland, Golden Freddy was glaring at the .50 bullet that little shit had put in his head. "You little bastards had better watch out. I'll be around. I ALWAYS will. Then, now, forever." He then got up and walked towards four unconscious figures hanging from a loose pipe from the demolition. He woke the first one, the driver, and said to him, "You four idiots have failed me for the last time. Now, because he knows, the feds know, and that your stupid asses are on the watch list, I've gotta make some adjustments. Suits will do, I suppose." By now all four were screaming into their gags. Golden Freddy then walked back in with four suits, all of him. He then yanked each down and stuffed them into a suit, killing them, but bringing them back as his minions. Within 10 minutes, they were all walking out and hijacking a bus, ordering the passengers and driver off. "Providence here I come." Golden Freddy smirked, driving the bus perfectly.

A few weeks had gone by since opening day, and I was getting that feeling of dread more and more each day. It was the worst today, October 31st, 2014, my 170th birthday. I had done some digging on the internet and found out that Golden Freddy, was my biological father. My mother, Lisa, saw that I did not have my father's cold heart, but her warm heart of gold. I gained my psychotic soul from him, but my gold heart made it psychotic against Golden Freddy. That's why he couldn't control me. I knew he was coming, my 170th birthday, the 27th anniversary of his first attempt, where he found that I nor Mike could be possessed by him. Same with the Animatronics. He had tried to possess each before that night, and failed each time. They were gold in heart, pure in soul…like me. I figured that I would reveal it that night before blowing out the candles. Chica had brought out the cake with the candles, but I told her I'd light them with my gold Zippo. She brought it out and I began with, "Before we begin, I have something tell you that I myself only found out yesterday." With a deep breath, I said it.

"Golden Freddy is my biological father."

It hit Foxy the hardest. He was afraid I'd work with Gold to bring them down. I could see his terror and I stated something very important that, I think, brought a miracle, "But he is not my true father. That's you, Foxy. He's evil. My mother's gold heart passed down to me, which caused the psychotic soul I inherited from that fat yellow bastard to go against him. The reason why no one here has been possessed, is because each one of us, from Mr. Fazbear to the smallest child here, has a heart of gold. That's why the families here don't cause problems and actually WANT to be here. Because he has no power here. No one here likes him either. Thus, he won't get any power. And now, as much as I hate to say it, we have to get him here to finish this. He's got 4 others that look like him, but they're the federal agent posers. They stumble, he doesn't." They took this in. "I have a few guns in the back to knock the posers to dirt nap status, but that yellow bastard can't be hurt by lead. I've got to finish him myself." I went in and brought out 3 shotguns, one for Foxy, one for Freddy, and one for Bonnie. I gave Chica my Model 500 for safety, and I hid Mike and Mr. Fazbear in the owner's office. I lit the candles, the "1" in 170 was the one from 10, 1987. I lit all three, and blew them out. Chica asked in a mocking tone, "What did you wish for, Moe?" "Meh, I wished for the Golden One to show up with his posers so we can knock him back to the stone ages." I said with a cheeky grin, earning a wink from Chica. Then, we heard him. "Be careful what you wish for, my boy. It might not be what you think." Then he showed up, standing fine, while the others were stumbling. He then said, "Get them." I heard the posers get taken care of fast. Golden Freddy then lunged right at me. I gave a primal scream and lunged at him.

We knocked each other around, and after about an hour I was gaining the upper hand. Then, he punched me so hard and so quick in the nose, which knocked me into a wall, then out into the parking lot. I struggled to get up. He came out and kicked me in the stomach. Then, he began to taunt me, "You should have stayed away. But, I knew you couldn't. I knew that no one here could be possessed. So, the old fashioned way was the only option. Brute force. Just give up. Your mother was a useless, disposable bitch who cared more about a freak child than her own life, anyway. She should have killed you. But she left you there, on that step at a pizza parlor. I killed her for her mistake of giving you away. Well, enough of the small talk, because it looks like Lucky Moe isn't so lucky anymore." He took one step before I snapped up and stood right in front of him. I said, "You are not worthy of calling me Lucky Moe, because it's YOUR luck that's run out." He looked at me, nervous, "What do you mean? I won already." I laughed, finally letting my soul kick in, and he didn't know about it. I said, in a demonic voice, "Looks like its game over for you, Gold. You underestimated me." He tried to run back to his stolen bus, which I blew up before he reached it. Then, I picked him up and began beating him senseless, all while saying, "Never EVER call my mother a bitch, never use my nickname again, and never. Call. Me. A. Freak." With that, I formed a large gun with my hands, and shot him with it, sending him to hell, where he belongs. I shut down my psychotic soul, and collapsed from exhaustion.

2 Months Later

Golden Freddy was no more. It's been 2 months, and Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria has never been hotter with everyone. We've finally put the past behind us. On December 24th, 2014, Foxy, Mike, and I were standing on a pier in Colt State Park under a cloudy sky. I was keeping the photo. But the now further burned #1 candle was in my hand, waiting to be flung into the ocean. I looked at it, and I whipped it, watching it fly into nothing. Foxy put his paw on my shoulder, nodding silently. We walked back to my Challenger when, as Mike and Foxy continued walking, I noticed a glowing light on the pier from the corner of my eye. I turned around and I didn't even need words to know that it was my mother. She floated over to me, and gave me a hug. She said, "Moses, you did wonderful. With Gold gone, you can finally be at peace, and I can finally rest." She was beautiful, she had flowing brown hair, bright blue eyes, and that same heart of gold. I then said, "Thank you…..for bringing me to them." She gave me a kiss and said, "Be safe, and know that I will always love you. Forever and ever." Then I said, "I love you, too." With that, she floated to the sky, her wings and halo showing. I turned around and Foxy was just helping Mike into the back seat. I walked over, and once everyone was buckled in, we drove off, knowing that we had a bright future. And we'd all be there together.

The end.

STORY OVER

EXITING STORY

PLEASE SELECT ONE OF THE FOLLOWING OPTIONS:

STORY

EMAIL

BIOS

ANNOUNCEMENTS

NEWS

FORMS

EXIT

EXIT SELECTED

PROCESSING SELECTION. . . . .

ARE YOU SURE?

YES

NO

YES SELECTED

PROCESSING SELECTION. . . . .

SESSION TERMINATED. SECURITY TIMESTAMP: 10/24/14 12:41:20 AM

HAVE A NICE DAY

CIA BLACK DIVISION:

PLEASE ENTER YOUR EMPLOYEE USERNAME: AGENT924

USER CONFIRMED

PLEASE ENTER YOUR PASSCODE, ENCRYPTION KEY, AND OFFICIAL IDENTIFYING STATEMENT

PASSCODE:

ENCRYPTION KEY:

OIS:

PROCESSING. . . .

CREDENTIALS CONFIRMED

PLEASE SELECT ONE OF THE FOLLOWING OPTIONS:

STORY (UNAVAILABLE)

EMAIL (1)

BIOS (UNAVAILABLE)

ANNOUNCEMENTS

NEWS

FORMS

EXIT

*Dial Tone as the sounds of phone buttons being pressed is heard*

*ringing*

*answer*

West: West, here.

Wilkes: Hey West?

West: Hey Wilkes, what do ya need?

Wilkes: I think our database on the Golden Freddy incident was breached.

West: Uh-oh.

Wilkes: Let me check the logs…yep someone by the name ThaHacka66688 hacked in and accessed the bios first, then the story. But nothing else.

West: Huh.

Wilkes: Hang on I got another call coming in.

*Epic Sax for hold tone*

Wilkes: Hey West I gotta go, someone from the FBI is here to see me.

West: Well I'll let you get to it.

Wilkes: See ya, dude.

West: Peace.

*Click*

*Click*

News article: Last week, the corpse of James Wilkes was found dead in a body bag dumped in the Providence River. He appears to have been dead before being tossed out the water, however. Two bullet wounds were found in the victim's torso. Police managed to trace one of the 9MM rounds to a beretta hajwejf 9-3wjeaopf managed to trace one of the 9MM rounds to a beretta hajwejf 9-3wjeaopfj4i 5o g4u0w4tugb98u5468yp4 u8yuhiyjiog jitorjhlnbjgnjknbtrj 9 u 54py84u 48 5u tu5498ytw54pygoh4mohtrohm489 fo43 upigfrjklv

SERVERS CORRUPTED

ALL DATA BEING ERASED

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

DATA ERASED

COPY OF THIS LOG SENT TO IP:

LOG COPY DELIVERED TO: MOSESTHABADASS1987

ERASING ALL SYSTEM DATA FROM YEARS: 1946-1991

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

FILES ERASED

ERASING ALL SYSTEM DATA FROM YEARS: 1992-2014

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

ALL DATA ERASED

SYSTEM SHUTDOWN

BYE


End file.
